THE day returns, my bosom burns; The blissful day we twa did meet; Though winter wild in tempest toiled, Ne'er summer sun was half sae sweet. Than a' the pride that loads the tide, And crosses o'er the sultry line, -- Than kingly robes, and crowns and globes, Heaven gave me more; it made thee mine. While day and night can bring delight, Or nature aught of pleasure give, -- While joys above my mind can move, For thee and thee alone I live; When that grim foe of life below Comes in between to make us part, The iron hand that breaks our band, It breaks my bliss, -- it breaks my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXAMPLE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES SHUT OUT THAT MOON by THOMAS HARDY THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE COCK, AND THE JEWEL by AESOP TO MY FRIENDS, WHO RIDICULED A TENDER LEAVE-TAKING by MATTHEW ARNOLD |